You Guys Are So Obvious
by haveabreakfast
Summary: Penny rolls her eyes; Luke slaps his forehead mentally. Whenever their Aunt Robin comes over for dinner, they're forced to painfully watch two morons dance around each other. Drabbles.


_Title: You Guys Are So Obvious_

_Summary: Penny rolls her eyes; Luke slaps his forehead mentally. Whenever their Aunt Robin comes over for dinner, they're forced to painfully watch two morons dance around each other. Drabbles._

_Disclaimer: I wouldn't be here if I own How I Met Your Mother. _

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><p>Once, in his young days, my dad was a spontaneous man. Luke and I have heard about the crazy stuffs Dad and his friends did, countless times. However, the fifty-year-old Dad isn't that guy anymore. These days he's more of a creature of habits and traditions. Everything he does is predictable. When he'd wake or sleep, where he'd go to dinner, what kind of take-out he'd order. Everything.<p>

Inviting Aunt Robin for dinner once a month is one of those traditions he holds highly. Every month, usually on the third Friday, Dad would cook some fancy meals and tell Aunt Robin to come. And he'd make us eat together with them.

Not that I'm complaining, which I probably am, but dinner with the two of them is a torture. Granted the food is good, but sometimes I just can't stand those two morons, dancing and skirting around the obvious.

It's obvious (to Luke and me, at least) that Dad has the hots for Aunt Robin. And it's obvious that she has a thing for him, too.

Why is that obvious, you ask? Well, let's look at the facts here.

First, Dad is never a great cook. Even after Mom died, he never really tries to cook regularly. But every third Friday of the month, he goes all out in the kitchen. He drowns himself in recipe books and one time even made an attempt to cook Canadian food. (Really, Dad, Canadian food?) That's gotta count for something.

Secondly, every dinner night, before Aunt Robin shows up, Dad spends at least thirty minutes getting ready. For a guy who never combs his hair anymore, that's a really long time. Aunt Robin is no different. She's always been hot-even for a really old lady-I give you that. But last month, Luke pointed out that she always smells good, like extremely good, whenever she visits. If I ever learned anything from Uncle Barney, it's that women don't go around smelling _that_ good without hidden agenda. Ever.

Then there's of course the flirting. Thank God they're old and old people don't flirt like teenagers anymore (they don't, do they?) But what they're doing is definitely flirting. One hundred percent flirting. For once, Aunt Robin laughs at Dad's jokes. Nobody, and I'm being serious here, nobody laughs at Dad's jokes. They're lame. They're even lamer than other people's dad's jokes. Okay, maybe not lamer than Uncle Marshall's, but still. Aunt Robin finds those things funny!Either she really likes him or her head needs an MRI, stat.

Next in line is the military salute gesture. We _hate_ that. Of all their quirky habits, this is the one we hate the most. Luke and I make enormous effort to leave words like general or private or major off the table. But somehow, those two always manage to sneak one or two military ranks in the conversation. They're definitely the only people in the world that find it funny. I'm telling you, Dad, it's not funny at all.

But what really frustrates us the most is this. At the end of the night, Dad would take Aunt Robin to the door, both grinning and smiling like idiots (probably a little tipsy from the wine, too). Then, they'd stand in front of the door awkwardly, not knowing whether to shake hands or hug, while Luke and I shake our heads and hold the urge to yell at them, "Just kiss already!"

So, basically, Luke and I can't stand those nights.

This Friday night, however, is different. For some reason, Dad broke his habitual schedule and didn't invite Aunt Robin to dinner. Instead, he made us sit down on his study to listen to the story of how he met Mom, which, by the way, features very little of her. And very heavy of Aunt Robin.

And as the story goes on and on (and on and on because Dad is the worst story-teller ever), I can't help but roll my eyes and glance over to my brother, while he tells me telepathically:

_'He's so obvious.'_

I can see Luke mentally slapping his forehead.

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><p><em>AN: Be nice, people. It's nice to ship Robin and Barney. It's not nice to flame me just because I like the series finale. Okay bye. _


End file.
